Time: 0700-0900
Conditions: 3-4 FT, overcast, offshore, cold
Board: Lost Mini Driver, medium quads
It’s a replay of yesterday, but many things
are different. Bri’s in the upper 26th Street lot while I’ve
cheap-assed it on the hill. The surf is smaller with a high tide, but there is
actually shape. I meet Bri in the lot. Tom, who I haven’t seen in a couple
weeks, is parked here, too. So is Collin.
“There’s a good peak at Dockweiler,” he
says. “I passed it on the way over here.”
I’ve heard of secret peaks around there,
but knowing me, I’m always gonna surf here regardless.
Walking over The Strand, we see the left
working in front of the tower, shoulder high, soft but rippable. The high
schoolers are selling it.
Young Mike’s out in front of the
brickhouse. He and a John John Florence lookalike are surfing another left. I
had a feeling today would be like this. With the outgoing swell, things usually
tend to shape up better here.
Still, there are some cleanup sets, but
smaller than yesterday. Manageable.
Bri and I paddle out and join the brick-house
pack. Fuck it’s cold. It’s definitely still winter water conditions, at least
for SoCal. Struggling, I have a hard time catching a first wave. I almost catch
one, but Imitation John John is on it, so I pull out. Bri goes late on a right
and disappears. I see her later getting worked on the inside.
I finally catch a left, and it’s in front
of Young Mike again who’s paddling out from the inside. I want to surf this
wave well, but I’m forcing it. My pumps are awkward, body too stiff and
upright. I’m trying to do a replay from Trestles and spring up out of the
bottom turn. I do and begin my wrap with speed, but I lean too far backwards,
and my board doesn’t follow, so I lose it. Fuck, it was a rippable wave too. I
turn around. Bri’s still getting worked, now all the way in front of the tower.
The current’s a little unsuspecting, as I’m
dragged south, too. The groms are leaving. Tom’s by my side. It should be “go
time” with waves all to ourselves, but as history has told, the kids have taken
the waves with them. Just a slight change of tide has made things walled again.
Not gnarly walled but no shape at all.
Bri leaves. I look at Collin in the
distance. He throws his hands up in frustration. The waves are long with hints
of shoulders at the end of them. Some look like they won’t break but double up
when they hit the sandbar. Positioning is hard. I finally get a decent right.
My first snap is sluggish. As walled as the sets are, the inside is still fat.
Could’ve used my Motorboat Too today. I try to really use my rail on the bottom
turns in hopes to create more speed, but I’m slow. I end the wave with three
turns. Still not bad.
And as the old swell leaves and the new one
comes in, the shape improves. My wave of the day is a runner of a left. I pump
down the line the whole time to set up for one G-force carve. I go rail to
rail, deep, even getting the board perfectly positioned back under my feet, but
I get lazy. I expect the wave to push my board and redirect it, but I eat shit
instead. All I needed to do was use my hips to ride out of it.
I’m out of the water at 0900. Looking at
the break from the shore, it a whole other day from this morning. The peaks are
coming in more scattered. The other locals have crowded the brickhouse: Roy,
Ross, Toru, Costco Kim. Even though I didn’t surf my best, I’m happy at this
sight. I have a lot to look forward to tomorrow.
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